Debts of Honor, by Maurus Jókai 
 
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Title: Debts of Honor 
Author: Maurus Jókai 
Translator: Arthur B. Yolland 
Release Date: September 24, 2007 [EBook #22757] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEBTS OF 
HONOR *** 
 
Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed Proofreading 
Team 
 
WORKS OF MAURUS JÓKAI 
HUNGARIAN EDITION
DEBTS OF HONOR 
Translated from the Hungarian 
By ARTHUR B. YOLLAND 
[Illustration: Publisher's logo] 
NEW YORK DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 
Copyright, 1900, by DOUBLEDAY & MCCLURE CO. 
 
TRANSLATOR'S NOTE 
In rendering into English this novel of Dr. Jókai's, which many of his 
countrymen consider his masterpiece, I have been fortunate enough to 
secure the collaboration of my friend, Mr. Zoltán Dunay, a former 
colleague, whose excellent knowledge of the English language and 
literature marked him out as the most competent and desirable 
collaborator. 
ARTHUR B. YOLLAND. BUDAPEST, 1898. 
 
CONTENTS 
CHAPTER PAGE 
I. The Journal of Desiderius 1 II. The Girl Substitute 30 III. My Right 
Honorable Uncle 59 IV. The Atheist and the Hypocrite 71 V. The 
Wild-Creature's Haunt 104 VI. Fruits Prematurely Ripe 114 VII. The 
Secret Writings 122 VIII. The End of the Beginning 131 IX. Aged at 
Seventeen 143 X. I and the Demon 148 XI. "Parole d'Honneur" 172 XII. 
A Glance into a Pistol Barrel 185 XIII. Which Will Convert the Other 
199 XIV. Two Girls 225 XV. If He Loves, then Let Him Love 240 XVI. 
That Ring 249 XVII. The Yellow-robed Woman in the Cards 258
XVIII. The Finger-post of Death 266 XIX. Fanny 281 XX. The Fatal 
Day! 285 XXI. That Letter 299 XXII. The Unconscious Phantom 306 
XXIII. The Day of Gladness 322 XXIV. The Mad Jest 330 XXV. 
While the Music Sounds 341 XXVI. The Enchantment of Love 351 
XXVII. When the Nightingale Sings 360 XXVIII. The Night Struggle 
370 XXIX. The Spider in the Corner 383 XXX. I Believe...! 397 XXXI. 
The Bridal Feast 407 XXXII. When We Had Grown Old 413 
 
DEBTS OF HONOR 
CHAPTER I 
THE JOURNAL OF DESIDERIUS 
At that time I was but ten years old, my brother Lorand sixteen; our 
dear mother was still young, and father, I well remember, no more than 
thirty-six. Our grandmother, on my father's side, was also of our party, 
and at that time was some sixty years of age; she had lovely thick hair, 
of the pure whiteness of snow. In my childhood I had often thought 
how dearly the angels must love those who keep their hair so beautiful 
and white; and used to have the childish belief that one's hair grows 
white from abundance of joy. 
It is true, we never had any sorrow; it seemed as if our whole family 
had contracted some secret bond of unity, whereby each member 
thereof bound himself to cause as much joy and as little sorrow as 
possible to the others. 
I never heard any quarrelling in our family. I never saw a passionate 
face, never an anger that lasted till the morrow, never a look at all 
reproachful. My mother, grandmother, father, my brother and I, lived 
like those who understand each other's thoughts, and only strive to 
excel one another in the expression of their love. 
To confess the truth, I loved none of our family so much as I did my 
brother. Nevertheless I should have been thrown into some little doubt,
if some one had asked me which of them I should choose, if I must part 
from three of the four and keep only one for myself. But could we only 
have remained together, without death to separate us or disturb our 
sweet contentment, until ineffable eternity, in such a case I had chosen 
for my constant companion only my brother. He was so good to me. 
For he was terribly strong. I thought there could not be a stronger 
fellow in the whole town. His school-fellows feared his fists, and never 
dared to cross his path; yet he did not look so powerful; he was rather 
slender, with a tender girl-like countenance. 
Even now I can hardly stop speaking of him. 
As I was saying, our family was very happy. We never suffered from 
want, living in a fine house with every comfort. Even the very servants 
had plenty. Torn clothes were always replaced by new ones and as to 
friends--why the jolly crowds that would make the house fairly ring 
with merry-making on name-days[1] and on similar festive    
    
		
	
	
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